


Wicked Games

by Kristeristerin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dreams, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27026986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristeristerin/pseuds/Kristeristerin
Summary: When a chance encounter with a certain witch haunts Antonin’s dreams he begins to wonder if maybe he’s been looking at this war all wrong.
Relationships: Antonin Dolohov/Hermione Granger
Comments: 20
Kudos: 99
Collections: Knockturn Tricks or Diagon Treats





	Wicked Games

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [KnockturnTricksOrDiagonTreats](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/KnockturnTricksOrDiagonTreats) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Treat: Wicked

**“** **What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way**

**What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you**

**What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way** **”**

**-Wicked Games, Chris Isaak**

* * *

Antonin watched the revelry from his spot in the corner near the garden doors. He took a sip from his fire whiskey and let his eyes fall closed at the familiar burning as he swallowed the amber liquid. 

“I bet I can guess where he stores his wand?” 

He opened his eyes to see a witch he didn’t recognize had taken the spot beside him. She leaned effortlessly against the wall, her dark blue gown clinging to her hips and falling around her feet, reminding him of the swirling smoke that rises from Amortentia. She looked every bit the elegant pureblood he’d expect to see at an event like this, between her dress and the way her blonde hair fell in curled tresses down her shoulders.

In lieu of a response, he raised an eyebrow at her. 

She raised her glass and gestured in the direction of Lucius Malfoy. He stood stiffly on the opposite side of the dance floor with several other prominent members of the Dark Lord’s inner circle. 

“One has to wonder if he is always so…” She grinned mischievously, “stiff.” 

Antonin snorted, “If the rumors I’ve heard are true then he likely isn’t stiff enough for Mrs Malfoy’s liking.” He had to suppress a smile when the witch threw her head back in laughter. There was something about the carefree sound that made him want to hear it again. 

“I am Emmaleigh Nott,” she extended her hand to him. “My cousin drug me here with him then disappeared. He said this was sure to be the event of the year and as I left England before I was old enough to be thrust into the societal spotlight it was very important for me to attend.” She said this with mock seriousness before rolling her eyes. “If I’m being honest I miss the seclusion the French countryside allowed me.” 

He took her offered hand and pressed it to his lips. “It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Nott. My name is Antonin Dolohov. I must admit that I do not know your cousin well, but I will have to thank him for bringing you along. This is the best conversation I have had at a Malfoy party in years.” 

She gently pulled her hand from his and brushed a few blonde curls behind her ears. She turned away to face the crowd, but not before he noticed the pink tint growing on her cheeks. 

“So, Mr Dolohov, do you know anything interesting about anyone else here?”

He watched as her eyes scanned the crowd. 

“You see the man in the obnoxious green robes over there?” 

“Mmhmm,” she took a sip from her glass.

“That is Charles Rosier. He is secretly seeing Scrimgeour. If you watch them long enough you will see they keep trading glances, but they will not speak a single time this evening.” 

“Do you not believe two wizards should be able to enter into a consensual relationship, Mr Dolohov?” 

“Of course, Miss Nott. The real gossip that has arisen is that poor Mrs Rosier,” He nodded toward a haughty woman who was standing silently beside Rufus Scrimgeour, “is also seeing Scrimgeour in private.” 

“How very salacious!” she placed a hand on her chest in shock, but her laugh betrayed her. Taking another sip from her drink, she turned away from the crowd and looked back at Antonin. “I really must insist you call me Emmaleigh. So tell me, Mr. Dolohov, how have you become so privy to all of this?” 

“Then you should call me Antonin, please,” he smiled at her before he looked back at the crowd with a scowl. “The problem with the upper crust of society is they are incapable of not being seen. Even when they think they are being discrete it’s not hard to overlook the quiet wizard that prefers to sit back in the shadows. I know secrets about nearly every person in this room.” 

The corner of her mouth twitched and she quickly downed her drink before pulling a small flask out of the top of her dress and taking a swig, “Well, Antonin, it sounds as if I had best keep to your good side then, just in case.” Emmaleigh reached out, putting a hand on his forearm. “Would you care to dance with me?” 

He eyed her hand for a moment before taking it in his and leading her out to the dancefloor. There was something so right about how she felt in his arms, and one dance quickly turned to two and then to three.

Halfway through the third dance, she pulled away. “I think I need some air. Would you care to take a walk with me?” 

Antonin allowed her to lead him back toward the garden doors and into the cool spring night. He followed, perplexed, as she led him toward the secluded garden near the edge of the Malfoy property. 

“Have you been here before?” 

She stopped in her tracks, “I, uh, when I was a child I spent many summer days here with Theo. The garden was the only place I could escape from him and Draco. Here, I want to show you something up here.” She took his hand and pulled him further away from the manor. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Looking ahead of them for the first time in several minutes he noticed a garden house. Twinkling fairy lights created a soft glow in the otherwise dark corner of the garden. 

“Come on,” she pulled her hand from his and picked up her pace as she made her way toward the building. 

By the time Antonin caught up with her, she was already in the center twirling around and laughing. Her eyes looked like shining emeralds in the low light. He took the few steps two at a time and reached out catching her hand and twirling her into his body. When they collided he found her laughter to be contagious and soon they were dancing to nothing but the music of their mirth. 

“Thank you for showing me this place, Emmaleigh,” He brushed her hair back from her face. “You are right it really is quite beautiful.” 

She smiled up at him. 

Leaning down he gently pressed his lips to hers. He waited a moment to gauge her response before feeling her begin to move her lips against his. Antonin buried his hand in her hair and angled her head in a way to begin to deepen the kiss when suddenly she shrieked and pushed back from him. 

She was now on the other side of the garden house doubled over in pain. He began to move toward her but stopped when she held out her hand. 

“Emmaleigh, are you alright? Should I find The-” 

His words were cut short when she drew her wand, “Petrificus Totalus.” 

Antonin felt his whole body seize up as he fell to the ground landing so that his body was still facing her. Now though, Emmaleigh was no longer standing before him. Instead, he saw Hermione Granger doubled over in pain with her wand extended toward him. 

She took a shaky breath before making her way over to him. “Don’t worry, Dolohov, I’m not going to kill you.” She pushed him onto his back. “That'd cause too much of a scene and we would prefer no one knows I was here.” 

She began to ruffle through his robe pockets and he knew instantly what she was searching for. Sure enough, a moment later she pulled a vial containing a silver liquid from his robe and stood to leave. 

He wasn’t certain, but as she was leaving he could have sworn he heard her whisper, “I’m sorry Antonin. Obliviate.” 

* * *

The first thing Antonin noticed was the pain in his head. He stiffly reached up and rubbed the back of his head, letting out a small groan when he found the knot. 

Knot? Not? Nott? He felt like there was something there but he couldn’t put it together. 

Sitting up, Antonin looked around his dark bedroom. “How much did I have to drink tonight?” He groused to himself as he swung his legs off the bed. He had to catch himself on his bedside table when his legs buckled beneath him. 

Antonin stumbled down his hallway looking for some indication of how he made it back to his flat. In his kitchen, he saw a piece of parchment stuck to his table with a knife. 

**Dolohov-**

**Nott Jr found you passed out in Malfoy’s garden. You looked rough, so I made sure you got home. Don’t worry, I helped myself to your last Cauldron Cake for my troubles.**

**-Travers**

Nott? 

Suddenly a flash of green eyes came to mind, but something felt off. She should have had brown eyes. 

He wasn’t sure who she was and he was too tired to try to wrack his brain, but he was sure she had brown eyes. Amber brown, like the color of Fire Whiskey. 

He made his way back to his bedroom and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. That night he dreamt of dancing with a small blonde witch with amber-brown eyes. 

* * *

Antonin didn’t dwell on his disjointed memories of the night at Malfoy manor. He had drunk himself into oblivion many times in the past, and while it hadn’t happened in years, a party thrown by Lucius would be the perfect time to blackout. 

The night didn’t cross his mind again for several days. He was standing in the elevator on his way to a meeting with Minister Scrimgeour when he found himself staring at a poster with a familiar face. 

Hermione Granger- Undesirable No. 2. 

He found himself entranced watching the picture loop. In it, her eyes were wide and wild as she raised her wand and- 

_“I’m sorry Antonin. Obliviate.”_

Antonin jumped and looked around the crowded lift to see if anyone else had heard it. Everyone else was staring blankly ahead. He shook his head and pushed through the crowd as soon as the doors opened, careful not to look at the poster again. 

He finished his meeting with the Minister quickly and opted to floo back to his flat directly from his office. 

That night, the blond witch in his dream was replaced by Hermione Granger. The feel of his lips on hers felt so real, and the feeling of her reaching into his robes and taking- 

He sat up suddenly and moved to search the pile of old robes in the corner of his room. He knew he was being paranoid, they were just dreams. He wouldn’t be careless enough to let a member of the Order get their hands on a memory vial. 

As he continued to search his breathing increased and he began throwing his robes across the room. “No, no, no, no.” He shook his head and walked toward his front door tearing through his belongings as he passed. He was certain the vial had to be somewhere in his flat. 

When the search proved to be fruitless he apparated to the front gates of Malfoy Manor. Making his way up the walk he was greeted by a small elf. 

“Shall Dipsy inform Master about his visitor?” 

Antonin pushed past the small creature and walked on autopilot to the room where the party had been held the week before. He was certain that if he recreated his path he would remember what happened that night.

Standing by the garden doors the image of the blonde witch flashed before his eyes. Only this time her eyes were deep green. He closed his eyes and it was so clear he could almost hear her tinkling laughter. 

They danced. He could see himself spinning her around the dance floor. Then she said something....

She had led him outside! 

His eyes popped open and he exited through the garden doors and started his trek across the property. A few minutes later he could see the garden house in the distance. It looked different in the early dawn light, at least he thought it did. 

Once he reached the steps he closed his eyes again. She was there. The light was dancing across her face as she spun in circles. Then he pulled her close. He wanted to be so close to her, he was drawn to her. 

He opened his eyes again and began looking around, hoping the vial had just fallen from his pocket. The vial was nowhere to be found, though he was able to see a small spattering of dried blood from where he hit his head. 

He hit his head. 

He hit his head because she body binded him. He raised his hand to the back of his head and felt where the lump had been. Knot. Nott. She had told him her name was Emmaleigh Nott, but it wasn’t. She was Hermione Granger. 

Hermione Granger had stolen the vial from him and then what? 

_“I’m sorry Antonin. Obliviate.”_

He sat there in silence until the sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention. He turned wand at the ready, to see Lucius Malfoy standing two yards away. 

“Do you mind telling me what you are doing at my home at this hour of the morning?”

“I was just looking for something I left after the party. I’ll be on my way.” Antonin stuffed a hand in his pocket and started to walk back toward the manor. 

“See that you are,” Lucius sniffed, “and Dolohov?” 

Antonin stopped for a moment. 

“Don’t come to my home unannounced again.” 

He nodded and continued to walk. 

* * *

Upon entering Nott’s Apothecary Antonin took a moment to make sure no one else was in the shop before locking the door. Seeing that the young shopkeeper wasn’t behind the counter he made his way to the back room. There he found Theo sitting at a desk bent over a large tome. 

“I know you’re helping the Order.” 

The younger wizard jumped, letting out a squeak and spinning around. “Merlin Dolohov,” he put a hand on his chest. “Wait, what did you say?” Theo cocked his head to the side. 

“The Order,” Antonin spoke slowly, “I know you have joined the Order, and I know that you helped that witch get into Malfoy’s party.”

Theo furrowed his brows, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dolohov. You had a lot to drink that night, I am sure you are just confused.” He reached out to place a hand on Antonin’s shoulder. 

Antonin knocked it away, “I’m not fucking confused. She told me that her name was Emmaleigh Nott and that she was your cousin.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, “but she was the Granger girl and she was on a mission from the Order. That’s why she stole the vial from me.” 

He raised his wand. 

“Dolohov, mate, I really have no idea what you’re talking about. My cousin attended the party, but she was with me all night.” Theo raised his hands and began to back up, stumbling on his desk and falling into the chair. “Come on, let’s not do anything rash here.” 

The older wizard lifted the sleeve of his robe to expose his Dark Mark, he hovered his wand above it. “You have two options, Nott. Either you can call whoever it is that you report to, or I can call the Dark Lord right now and let him decide if you are lying about betraying him.” 

Theo swallowed hard and nodded. “Sure, yeah.” He moved slowly, “just let me get my wand.” 

Antonin watched through narrowed eyes as he retrieved his wand and what appeared to be a coin from his desk. He mumbled a few words and stared at the coin before nodding. “He will be here in an hour.” 

With his wand still hovering above his mark, Antonin made his way to an empty chair in the corner and sat down. “I’ll just wait here then.” 

The two men had been sitting in 10 minutes of uncomfortable silence when Antonin next spoke. “So, is she even real?” 

Theo looked up from his desk, “Is who real?” 

“Do you really have a cousin named Emmaleigh?” 

"If you mean is the green-eyed blonde really Emmaleigh Nott the answer is no.” Theo shuffled a few papers on his desk. “She is some random muggle Hermione stole some hair from because we share a few features. The real Emmaleigh Nott has a face like a horse and would not have fared so well in the seduction department.”

Antonin suppressed a laugh. 

“Honestly, I tried reaching out to her when father died,” Theo drew his eyebrows together, “and she had absolutely no interest in England or me so she seemed like a safe alias for Hermione. 

When Antonin didn’t reply Theo shrugged and turned back toward his book. 

It was just under thirty minutes later when the telltale sound of apparition caught Antonin’s attention. Before him stood a dark-skinned wizard in ornate dark blue robes.

He stood and crossed the room. Antonin made a show of holding up his wand before setting it on the table beside him. Close enough that he could easily grab it, but far enough away to allow the others in the room some comfort. 

“Surely you’ll forgive me, Dolohov, if I don’t afford you the same courtesy.” Kingsley tightened his grip on his wand. “So, you wanted to meet?” 

“One of your people took something very precious to me. I am hoping we can come to an arrangement that may allow it to be returned.” 

Kingsley let out a booming laugh, “What kind of arrangement could you possibly offer that would convince me to give you the vial?” 

“Well, you are needing more information. Clearly, you have one spy already,” he gestured to Theo, who was sitting at his desk trying to look busy, “but perhaps you could benefit from one who is within the inner circle?” 

“Who is to say we don’t already have someone?” 

This time Antonin laughed. “If you did you wouldn’t have sent a witch in to seduce me. Face it, this isn’t an offer you can turn down.” 

Kingsley silently rubbed his chin, “And all you want is the vial?” 

“Well, the vial and immunity for any past and future crimes committed under the Dark Lord.” 

“I knew there would be more.” Kingsley pursed his lips. “I think this can be done.” 

“Oh, one more thing.” Antonin smiled at the other man, “I will only meet with Hermione Granger. She has already proved her competence and I’ll not risk my life with one of your other members.” 

Kingsley let out a small sigh, “I’ll ask her but I can’t be certain she will agree.” 

“If she does tell her next Wednesday at 7 pm she can apparate directly into my flat.” Antonin’s grin spread, “She should be familiar with the place. It’s right above what used to be Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.” Without waiting for a response Antonin picked up his wand, turned to the door, and left.

* * *

Antonin pulled his watch out and stared at it for what felt like the fifth time in the last thirty minutes. She was late. What if she didn’t show? What would he do if the Order went back on their deal? 

“Ahem.” 

Startled, Antonin spun around and found a wand between his eyes. He was so caught up in his thoughts he hadn’t heard the pop of apparition behind him. 

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, Dolohov, but I am supposed to check in every 10 minutes with Kingsley and if I don’t he will have the full power of the Order here in seconds.” 

He held his hands up and took a step back, “Miss Granger, I think you have my intentions mistaken. I want to help you with your mission.” 

Her eyes narrowed, “Why? Why would you go against your Lord?” 

The fire in her eyes caught him off guard for a moment, but he shook his head and searched for an answer. He hadn’t considered it himself before this moment. What was it about her that unnerved him to the point that he finally made to move from under Voldemort’s thumb? 

“You,” he held her gaze and paused for a moment. “You are the reason, Miss Granger.” 

She threw her head back and laughed. This time the sound was hollow, holding none of the warmth he remembered. “You really can’t be such a fool that you fell for it.” When he didn’t respond she shook her head and chuckled. “That was all an act Dolohov. It wasn’t real.” 

He scowled, “You misunderstand me, Miss Granger.” The lie spilled from his mouth with the ease of years of practice. “You are the reason because that vial you took ensured my death should The Dark Lord learn that I lost it.” He removed the vial from the pocket of his robe. “Lucky for me part of the deal for my cooperation was the vial would be returned to me once Kingsley was able to learn everything he needed from it.” 

She bit her lip, “And you won’t turn on us because you know that this tips the scales in our favor and you’ll be killed anyway if he finds out how we learned of where he is keeping the snake?” 

Antonin nodded, “Now you are using your brain. So, I assure you Miss Granger I am under no assumption that this will be anything more than a professional setup. I simply requested to speak with you because I know you are capable of an intelligent conversation.” 

He tried to stomp down the hope that the pink tint of her cheeks gave him. 

“Right, well,” she finally lowered her wand and began to search her bag. A moment later she held a coin out to him. “This will be our form of communication. I have put a charm on it similar to the Protean charm.” 

He took the coin, intentionally brushing her hand with his. 

Hermione’s breath hitched. Clearing her throat she showed him a second coin in her hand. “You just tap it like this,” she tapped the coin with her wand, “and speak the command word. The one for our coin is ‘Firewhiskey’. Once you have spoken the word you can whisper a short message into the coin.” 

She demonstrated tapping it again and then brought the coin to her lips. He could barely make out the sound of her voice. A moment later the coin in his hand began to heat up. The usual picture on the face of it was now replaced with a message- 

**Keep the coin on you at all times**

“This is how we will set up our meetings.” She put hers back into her bag and held a hand out to him. “If there is nothing else you have to report at this time I think we can go ahead and end this meeting.” 

Antonin hesitantly took her hand in his own, and shook his head, “No, I believe that’s it.” 

Hermione nodded, “Well, let me know if anything important comes up, otherwise I will reach out to you for our next meeting.” She straightened out her robes, “Goodbye Dolohov.” 

A moment later she was gone and Antonin was left alone with his thoughts. He ran his thumb back and forth over the coin for a moment before putting it in his pocket and going to find himself a bottle of fire whiskey. 

* * *

The first time he felt the coin heat up in his pocket was three weeks later. He excused himself from his conversation with Rabastan. When he was alone he glanced at the coin. 

**Thursday 6pm**

When Thursday came Antonin found himself once again pacing back and forth in the kitchen of his flat. It wasn’t until she appeared in front of him that he let out a breath of relief. 

“Shall we get this over with?” she gestured to the weathered table in the corner of his kitchen. 

He pulled out a chair for her then took his own. Antonin watched in awe as she pulled a quill and parchment from her small beaded bag and looked at him expectantly. 

“Uh, well.” The intensity of her gaze made him shuffle in his chair and look down at the table. “The Dark Lord is putting more pressure on Greyback and the werewolves. They are pushing more into Hogsmeade.”

“Do you know when they are planning their next attack?” Hermione’s eyes were wide. 

Antonin swallowed hard, “They are intending to attack during the full moon. They intend to turn as many people as they can as quickly as they can.” 

She looked down at the quill in her hand, “Why would they do that?” 

“I believe Greyback is creating a werewolf army he can control for the Dark Lord, though it’s more likely for his own sick pleasure than for actual service.” 

“But, why would they follow Greyback if he turns them? Surely that would be a reason to rebel?” 

“Did you learn about werewolves in school, Miss Granger?” 

Hermione nodded, “Yes, but only briefly. Snape was trying to out Professor Lupin.” 

“Perhaps you’ll remember that most people who are turned must follow the orders of the leader of their pack. If you combine that with the prejudice most of them face it’s easy to see why they would join forces with Greyback.”

She stared at her quill for a moment before shuddering and looking back up at Antonin. “Those poor people. We have to save them.” 

“I hope you do,” the sincerity in his words took him by surprise. He placed his hand over where hers was shaking on the table. “You will, Miss Granger.” 

Hermione pulled her hand back from his. “If that’s all, I must be going.” 

“That’s all I have right now.” 

She looked at him quietly for a moment, the blank look on her face not giving him any indication of her thoughts, before quickly packing her belongings back up. 

“Goodbye, Dolohov.” 

He barely had a chance to register her words before she was gone. 

Their next several meetings were spent much the same. Hermione would show up, take some notes about what information Antonin was able to provide, and she would leave as quickly as she arrived.

It wasn’t until a meeting six months after their initial meeting that things began to change. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything new as far as the Dark Lord is concerned, but,” Antonin leaned in a whispered conspiratorially, “do you remember the love triangle between the Rosiers and Scrimgeour?” 

“Mmhmm,” a smile made its way onto her lips as she leaned into him, nodding.

“Well, the Rosier’s have recently announced that Mrs. Rosier is pregnant. The question now is who is the father.” 

Hermione shook her head. “Pureblood society is so scandalous.” 

The sound of her laughter made his heart skip a beat. He looked at his watch. “Um, it’s about dinner time. If you’d want to wait here I can run to The Leaky Cauldron and pick something up for us.” 

She suddenly pulled back. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. I can’t.” She bit her lip, “Ron made me promise I would be back in time to have dinner with him tonight. Another time?” 

“Right, Weasley. I vaguely remember hearing rumors you two were involved.” Antonin replied flatly. “Uh, yeah, sure, another time.” 

She gave him a sad smile. “I’m really sorry. Thank you for the uh,” she paused for a moment and pursed her lips, “thank you for the gossip. I have very few opportunities to laugh these days.” 

He didn’t answer, just looked at his drink on the table. When he heard her apparate away he picked up his glass and threw it at the wall. As the liquid dripped down he cursed himself for pushing the boundaries of their relationship. 

* * *

When it came time for their next meeting he wasn’t sure if he was more surprised to see the short blonde witch in front of him or the fact that she held up two bags of takeaway from the Leaky. 

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want,” she bit her bottom lip, “so I got a little bit of everything.” 

He stared blankly at her for several seconds before she looked down at her feet and started to shift her weight from one foot to the other.

“I-” she stopped and looked away from him. Hermione moved to pick up the bags from where she had set them on his table. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” 

Antonin reached out and covered her hand with his own. The contact caused her to jump and once again meet his gaze. “There is no reason to apologize, Miss Granger. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, though I wish you hadn’t put yourself in unnecessary danger on my behalf.” He gestured to her polyjuiced form. ”I must confess that I hadn’t expected you to return.” 

“Hermione,” she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Please call me Hermione.” 

He smiled at her. “Very well, Hermione. Shall we sit and enjoy dinner before our meal gets cold?” 

“I think that is an excellent idea,” she grinned back at him, “and after we can get down to business.” 

That meeting had been a true turning point for them. From that point on their meetings always began with dinner and conversation. They really got to know each other. She told him all about her relationship with Ron and confided in him about the expectations put on them by everyone else. He told her about his childhood, and what it was like being raised in a pureblood household. 

The next big change in their relationship happened gradually, but Antonin noticed it first during a meeting four months into their new arrangement. It had begun like any other, Hermione showing up just after he returned home with food from a new restaurant in Diagon Alley, but there was something about how she leaned into him as she spoke that almost gave him hope. 

Antonin was quick to remind himself he couldn’t afford to hope for anything more than what they already had, he had done too much bad in his life to deserve even that. Still, he couldn’t deny to himself that what had started as intrigue in this witch that haunted his dreams had morphed into more. 

Even now, as they sat together he found himself distracted by the way her lips moved as she spoke. 

“Antonin? Are you listening?” 

“Huh?” he averted his eyes to the table. “Sorry, I was lost in thought. What were you saying?” 

Hermione laughed, “I was just telling you about something that Harry did last week. It wasn’t important. Are you ok? You’re quieter than usual. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” she placed her hand over his on the table. 

Antonin frowned and looked at their hands on the table. “Do you,” he cleared his throat, “ Do you ever think about the first time we met?” 

Hermione stiffened and pulled her hand away from his. “The party you mean?” She didn’t wait for his response before continuing. “I’ve thought about it a few times. I mainly wonder why Obliviating you didn’t work. I mean I know you mentioned the memories came back in flashes, but it all seems so strange.” 

He shook his head, “That’s not what I meant.” He raised his eyes to hers and he swallowed hard. “I mean that night in the Ministry. The night I almost killed you.” 

“Oh,” she wrapped her arms around herself, one hand resting on the top of a scar that peeked just above the top of her jumper. “Honestly, I don’t remember a lot from that night, or the weeks following.” 

“I’m sorry, Hermione.” Antonin reached out and took her hands in his. “I know I can’t make up for the pain I have caused so many people, or for the pain I have caused you, but please know that I would take it back if I could.”

Hermione squeezed his hands, “Can I ask you one thing though? What changed? What is the real reason you are helping us? Why did you insist on me being your contact? It’s no secret that I’m muggleborn and therefore my existence goes against your beliefs.” 

He was silent for several moments, just enjoying the feeling of her hands in his. 

“I didn't join the Death Eaters because I wanted to kill muggles, Hermione." Antonin started moving his thumb in a circle on the back of her hand. "It was quite the opposite. I was a young idealistic boy who thought I'd found the answer to society's problems." He looked at her, "When I joined, I thought it was nothing more than a political party. A party that sought to separate Muggles and Wizards. Not because one was superior, but because that's how we could best keep peace and keep witches and wizards safe.” 

“It all started slowly, as many things do, with The Dark Lord asking us to take a hostage here or kill someone there.” Antonin shook his head, “before I knew it killing had become second nature and I didn’t even flinch. I know the things they say about me, that I am a monster. What most people don’t realize is just because you are good at killing, it doesn’t mean you enjoy it.” 

Hermione was blinking back tears. She pulled hands back from his and pulled him into a hug. “I forgive you Antonin, and for what it’s worth I know you aren’t a monster.” 

The feeling of her breath on his neck sent a shiver down his spine. He pulled back to look her in the eyes. 

“To answer your other question, I asked for you because you intrigued me.” Their faces were inches apart and neither seemed inclined to move away. “Ever since the night you silenced me, you have held a place in the back of my mind. At first I thought I hated you. I had nightmares about a young muggle born witch getting the best of me, but soon I realized I was just curious about you. How can everything the Dark Lord preaches be true when you are here and you are so courageous and powerful?” 

He raised a hand and brushed her cheek, her body trembled against his. “Then when you got the best of me again I knew I had to do something about it. I had to know you.” 

Hermione leaned in a little closer and her eyes fell closed when suddenly she jumped back. “I’m sorry! I really should be going.” 

Antonin frowned but nodded. 

“I will see you in two weeks,” she gave him a sad smile and pulled out her wand, ready to aparate.

* * *

They met every other Thursday like clockwork. That’s why when Antonin received a message from Hermione on a Saturday evening asking if they could meet he was concerned. 

Antonin found himself pacing before their meeting for the first time in months. What could be so important that she had to call a meeting so urgently? Was she ok? 

His worries only grew when she showed up twenty minutes later. Hermione’s eyes were bloodshot and her bottom lip trembled. Without allowing himself to consider the consequences Antonin crossed the room and took her in his arms. She stiffened under his touch. Just as he was about to pull away Hermione threw her arms around him and buried her face into his chest. 

He found it painful to see her so upset. It was a strange feeling. Antonin had spent so many years allowing himself to be numb to the pain of others, but this little witch had pulled down every one of his carefully constructed walls. He could feel her shake against him as her tears soaked through his shirt. Unsure of what else to do, he began to run his fingers through her hair. 

“Shhh,” he spoke lowly, “I’ve got you, Hermione. You are safe here. You can talk to me, milaya.” 

Hermione pulled away and used her sleeve to wipe her eyes. “I’m-” she took a shuddering breath, “I’m sorry, Antonin. I shouldn’t have come here.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he pushed her tear-soaked curls behind her ear. “I’m here for you. Now, let’s have a seat on the couch and we can talk about it.” 

He led her to his living room and once she was seated comfortably he crossed the room to his small bar. “Would you like a drink?” 

“A fire whiskey please,” her voice was barely above a whisper. 

He poured them each a glass and took his seat beside her. He watched with a raised eyebrow as she gulped down the contents of her glass before setting in on the table in front of them. 

It was several seconds before she spoke. “We broke up.” 

“I’m sor-”

She held up her hand and shook her head. “I could see it coming. To be honest, I’m not that upset about the break up itself. There was just so much pressure from everyone else. I mean, I don’t want to get married right now, we are in the middle of a war!” Hermione threw her hands in the air. 

“I stopped loving Ron a long time ago.” She lowered her voice, “Hell, maybe I never did.” Hermione turned her body to face Antonin. “He has always been a very loyal friend, but recently he’s become increasingly jealous. It had become especially bad when it came to our meetings.” 

She poured more whiskey into her glass and took a small drink. “We fought again last week after I left here. I was telling him about the story you told me about Baba Yaga and he started ranting about how close we were becoming. He was so angry and I tried telling him I wasn’t going to let him insinuate that I am not faithful and he-” she looked at the glass in her hand, “he actually referred to me as a Death Eater’s whore and told me he wasn’t interested in Antonin Dolohov’s sloppy seconds.” 

Antonin could feel the blood rush to his head. The longer she spoke the more painful tortures he considered inflicting on Weasley. It wasn’t until he felt her taking his glass from his hand that he realized how tightly he has been gripping it. 

“He should have never spoken to you like that.” Antonin was speaking between gritted teeth. 

“You’re right,” Hermione bit her lip, “but so was he. You and I have become closer than we should have. When I’m with you I feel like,” her eyes drifted to the wall behind him before focusing on him once again. “When I am with you I feel hope. I feel like I can truly be myself, and you don’t just put up with me you celebrate my eccentricities. When we are apart I find myself counting down until our next meeting.” She shook her head, “Ron and I may have just broken up, but we have been over for months.” 

“I honestly don’t know what to say,” Antonin mentally kicked himself when her face fell. 

“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything,” Hermione turned away and started to get up. 

Antonin grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. When they were face to face he pushed his lips against hers. Unlike their first kiss, there was no hesitation in the reciprocation. Hermione moved to straddle him and continued to kiss him feverishly. 

He wasn’t sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew they were making their way down the hallway toward his bedroom. 

* * *

Antonin awoke early the next morning to find his bed empty. His heart sank seeing a folded piece of parchment where he had expected Hermione to be. Hesitantly, he reached out and read the note. 

**I’m sorry, Antonin.**

His mind was reeling. Why would she leave after everything they said last night? After everything they did? 

He couldn’t help the nagging thought that kept fighting its way to the front of his mind. _What if she was lying?_ After all, it wouldn’t be the first time she had lied to him. 

Antonin shook the thought from his mind. There was no way she was faking her heartbreak. 

An hour later he was holding his coin in hand praying to any deity listening that the coin would warm up. He'd tried everything he could think of trying to get her to respond, but still, the coin felt cold in his hand. Sighing, he put the coin in his pocket and left for his early morning meeting with the Lestranges. 

He was distracted the entirety of the meeting which, much to his despair, didn’t go unnoticed by the younger Lestrange. 

“Lady troubles?” Rabstan grinned. 

Antonin bristled, “What? No. What would give you that impression?” 

“Oh, nothing much,” Rabastan sing-songed, “I just heard a rumor that you were seen with a very pretty blonde witch at Malfoy’s last party a few months ago, and you have seemed almost happy recently. It’s quite unsettling, to be honest.” He reached out and put a hand on Antonin’s shoulder, “If there is nothing else I have learned from my time as a married man, it’s that there is almost nothing a good night in bed can’t fix.” He winked. “You and your witch will make up.” 

Antonin laughed sardonically, “if only it were that ea-”

He abruptly stopped speaking when he felt telltale warming in his pocket. “You know what, Lestrange, you might be right. If you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting to attend.” 

As soon as Antonin was alone he pulled the coin from his pocket and hope was replaced with confusion. The coin only contained two words. 

**Nott’s Apothecary**

* * *

Antonin locked the shop’s door behind him and once again made his way to the backroom. 

“Where is she?” 

This time the younger wizard barely glanced up from his book. “Who? Oh, Hermione?” He closed the book. “She’s not here. Actually, she gave me her coin.” He held it up for Antonin to see. 

“Why? Why would she do that?” Antonin winced at the crack in his voice. He was silently grateful Theo ignored it. 

“She didn’t tell me much,” Theo shrugged. “She just asked that I take over as your contact with the Order. Honestly, it didn’t seem like my business. I actually asked you to meet me to make sure you were ok with the change.” 

Antonin stared at the other wizard for nearly a minute before silently nodding. 

“Great, well, we can meet here at the same time next week? If you need me before then you can contact me.” Theo held up the coin again. 

Again Antonin just wordlessly agreed before showing himself back out of the shop. 

At first, he wasn’t sure why he agreed to help the Order. Later he would tell himself it was to save his own skin should they win, but deep down he knew that it was for her. In the time they had spent together Hermione had irrevocably changed something inside of him. He was better because of her. He wanted to be better for her. 

* * *

Two weeks later Antonin found himself with his back pressed up against the wall in another one of Malfoy’s parties. This one was to celebrate the engagement of Malfoy’s son to the youngest Greengrass girl. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel jealousy rising inside of him as he watched the happy couple dancing in the center of the room. 

The hint of a smile pulled at the corner of Antonin’s mouth as he thought about one of the stories Hermione has told him of her years in Hogwarts. When she had punched Draco in the face and he ran off whimpering. The thought made him look at the couple in a different light, perhaps his jealousy was misplaced. There was a high chance the new Mrs Malfoy would be just as dissatisfied as the current one. 

When it all became too much Antonin slipped outside into the garden. Within a couple minutes, he’d subconsciously found his way back to the garden house. Tonight the fairy lights were accented with white roses. He’d nearly reached the steps when he heard someone walking behind him. 

“I was hoping I’d find you here.” 

Hearing her voice he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists at his side. “Were you?” He asked after an uncomfortable silence. He felt her hand on his arm. 

“I’m sorry Antonin.” 

He spun around, “You keep saying that, but I’m not sure you understand what it means.” Seeing her recoil at the bite in his words didn’t bring him the satisfaction he’d been hoping for. He took a steadying breath and looked away from her. “No, I’m the one who should be apologizing. Clearly, I pushed you too far when you were coming to me for comfort. I’m sorry. I truly am.” 

When he looked back into her eyes he was surprised to see she was blinking back tears. Instantly he wrapped his arms around her and began mumbling softly into her hair. “Why did you leave? Did I do something wrong?” 

She pushed back so she could look at him. “I was scared. I was scared we were crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. The first thing I did was ask Theo to take over for me. I wasn’t sure if you’d agree to it, but I wanted to put distance between us. Then he told me you agreed but that you looked so heartbroken. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Antonin. I swear I didn’t.” 

Antonin leaned down and captured her lips in a soft kiss before leaning his forehead against hers. “There is nothing to be sorry for, milaya. I had already forgiven you as soon as I woke up alone.” 

Hermione smiled at him. “So, I talked things out with Kingsley, and he agreed that it was a conflict of interest to have me as your contact with the Order. He thinks you should still meet with Theo.”

When he began to protest she smiled even wider. “However, we also think it might be beneficial to integrate another spy in with the pureblood ladies. Since I have already been seen with two separate death eaters on several occasions I thought it could be me.” 

“That is if you are ok with me being your date to social functions.” She looked away and began chewing on her bottom lip. 

Antonin used a finger to lift her face and bring her eyes back up to meet his. “My only complaint is that you have to look like this when we are out together. There isn’t a single person I’d rather spend my nights with. Are you sure it’ll be safe for you though?” 

She shrugged, “I can’t imagine it’d be much more dangerous than a mission to seduce and steal from a powerful wizard and I managed to do that.” 

“That you did,” he laughed before kissing her again. 


End file.
